Godzilla

by Greg Keyes

  * * *

  When Brooks got back outside, piles of thunderheads were rolling in, and high winds bent the tops of the council trees. Rain came across the mountains like a solid wall. They had to slow to a crawl, because visibility dropped so low. He wasn’t driving, so he stayed on the crackly radio as Hess updated him.

  There was another Titan unleashed – Rodan. And now all hell was breaking loose. They had lost contact with Monarch, and all communications were getting sketchy.

  The road was close to being a river by the time he got back to camp. He pushed into the command tent.

  Inside, all was in bedlam. He made his way through the chaos to Hess, who was on the radio.

  “Castle Bravo, this is containment team Mosura, do you read, over?”

  He didn’t look hopeful.

  “Anything?” Brooks asked.

  “No, sir, we’ve lost contact with the Argo, Castle Bravo, and the other containment sites—”

  “Which ones?” Brooks asked.

  “All of them,” he replied. “Angkor Wat, Skull Island, Stone Mountain – all the Titans… they’re escaping.”

  He played back the last transmissions they had received from the other containment bases: Behemoth shattering buildings in Rio de Janeiro with his tusks, Methuselah cutting a swath through Munich, Scylla stalking through Phoenix on her spidery legs.

  “Jesus,” he murmured.

  One monitor was still showing something live. Monster Zero, the three-headed dragon, atop a volcano, roaring…

  And it clicked.

  “It’s him,’ Brooks realized. “He’s the one doing this. They’re responding to his call.”

  The power flickered and then faded.

  “Where’s Dr. Ling?” he demanded.

  But he knew. She was almost always with Mothra.

  He ran back outside, and found her there, in the rain, standing with her back to him.

  “Dr. Ling,” he shouted, trying to cut through the howling wind and driving rain. “We’ve lost contact with Monarch.”

  She didn’t turn around.

  “Dr. Ling?”

  The rain slackened; the winds died down.

  Above, the thick clouds parted, and fireflies began to flicker in the highland jungle.

  And, beyond the waterfall, something new was happening.

  The cocoon was rippling, glowing. Tears appeared in the fabric, and sharp, insectile legs pushed out.

  Whatever Mothra had been, she was different now. He was about to see how different. It was a little terrifying but mostly exciting.

  The other monsters were free. Now it was Mothra’s turn. He hoped Ling was right about Mothra; if Monster Zero was controlling her, too, he and his team were as good as dead.

  But it didn’t feel like that was happening.

  She began to sing, like the night music of insects, but bigger, more meaningful. A gentle blue light began to shine, as her gossamer wings unfolded.

  She was beautiful as she took flight.

  Ling followed the Titan’s path into the sky, too. She looked a little otherworldly in the blue light, and her expression was nothing short of reverential. He remembered the Iwi people of Skull Island, their attitude toward Kong. He thought he saw something of that in Ling’s hazel eyes.

  * * *

  Maddie ran through the corridors of the bunker toward her room, trying to process what she had seen, the sheer amount of destruction that was occurring, the death.

  Mom had said monsters and humans could live in harmony. Her experience with Mothra had made Emma think she was right. And there were other examples – Godzilla and Kong.

  But from what she had seen, the only relationship these Titans wanted with humans was that of predator to prey. And Monster Zero – she would never shake off the sheer malevolence she’d seen in those eyes. There was no peaceful coexistence with that guy.

  No wonder Jonah had sneered at the notion.

  “Madison, wait!”

  Mom. Following her. She would want to talk. To somehow argue it all made sense. But it didn’t. And she was in no mood for waiting. Or talking.

  “Get away from me,” she shot back.

  But her mother persisted.

  “Look,” she said. “I know things haven’t gone exactly according to plan, but I can fix it.”

  “According to plan?” Madison said. “You said that you were going to be careful, that you’d release them one at a time, that you would restore balance—”

  “And we are,” she insisted.

  “You also failed to mention the man we teamed up with is a homicidal maniac!”

  “They were going to take over Monarch and kill the Titans. Jonah was the only one who could pull this off. I didn’t have a choice—”

  “There’s always a choice!” she said. “You know who taught me that? Dad.”

  Her mother blinked, and her mouth opened a little, but she didn’t say anything.

  “You said he left us, that he was a drunk who didn’t care about us.”

  “Because he did leave us,” her mother said. “Somebody had to be strong for you and it sure as hell wasn’t him. He gave up on me, gave up on you.”

  “No,” Maddie shouted. “You’re the one who gave up! You gave up on everything. You gave up on humanity.”

  “Madison—”

  “And if Dad’s such an asshole, then why’d he come back? Why is he trying to help people while we’re trying to kill them?”

  “We are helping people, baby—”

  “Bullshit!” she said, taking a step toward her mother. “You said you were doing this for Andrew. But do you really think he would’ve wanted this?”

  That made an impression on her.

  “I… I don’t know,” she said.

  “Exactly. I’m starting to think you don’t know more than you do.”

  She ran into her room, slammed the door, and locked it. Then she ignored her mother pounding on it and calling her name until she went away.

  She cast about her room, unsure of what to do next. She really wanted to break something, but there wasn’t a lot to break. Her pad, maybe, or some of the old stuff in the room.

  But no. The whole world was breaking. She didn’t want to contribute any more to that. She had gone along with Mom on this whole thing. She could have stopped all of it at any time, just by telling someone. Dr. Mancini, Chen, Vivienne – her dad. But she hadn’t. She had believed. She was responsible for what was happening. Because she had trusted her mother.

  She had to do something.

  The bunker had been built for a lot more people than were currently in it, so Maddie had had plenty of rooms to choose from, but Mom wanted her reasonably near the command center, which limited her choices.

  Maddie had picked an old radio room.

  Mom said this was one of the first Monarch bunkers to be built, way back in the forties, and it showed. Her room was like a time capsule. She liked the old-fashioned equipment, the poster warning her that loose lips would sink ships. It was like something out of a black-and-white movie.

  Her gaze swung back to the poster. Loose Lips Sink Ships.

  She didn’t have access to the Internet here – Jonah had made certain of that. She didn’t have a phone.

  But what if this stuff still worked? The radio, for instance. The control room had the high-tech stuff. Probably no one had used this equipment in decades.

  If it did work, maybe she could do something.

  Maybe she could sink a ship.

  She examined the gray metal console, found a switch clearly labeled on and off. She switched it on.

  Static and voices immediately filled the room. She jerked back a little, not sure what she was hearing. Then she recognized some of the voices. Jonah’s men. So that was the intercom. Good to know, but not what she was looking for. She flipped it off, and after a little more searching found another switch. This time dials lit up, little red needles swung to their positions. An angry buzz began.

  She leaned
toward the microphone and put her finger on the black button on its base. The buzz stopped. She found a knob and began turning it; the sounds changed. Bits of what might be voices went in and out of the static.

  She put her mouth close to the microphone and pushed the button again

  “Hello...?” she said, experimentally.

  Nothing. She kept turning the knob, trying to find a clear channel.

  “Is anyone there? I’m trying to reach… Monarch.”

  She turned it a little more, and suddenly voices poured from the speakers. People screaming, pleading for help.

  “Mayday! Mayday! We need help… Everything is burning. Please, is anyone there?”

  Horrified, she backed away, got on her bed, and covered her ears. It went on and on, and there was nothing she could do. Nothing. She felt like she was dissolving inside.

  * * *

  Mark was exhausted. He’d spent hours pulling apart animal sounds, analyzing them, playing them side by side with the recordings of the ORCA in action. He wasn’t sure anymore that there was a point to it, but it gave him something to do other than think about the fact that his ex-wife was now a mass-murderer on a global scale. He hoped, at least, that she was right when she said Madison was safe. It seemed to him that even the Monarch bunkers might not be secure from what was happening now.

  Other than his animal sounds, the bridge was mostly quiet – just a few crew and Chen, working at something as fervently as he was.

  “Any luck?” Chen asked, after a while.

  “No,” he said. “Whatever Emma used to create the ORCA signal – I’ve never heard it.”

  He looked over at Chen’s console, and what appeared to be ancient texts, murals, inscriptions.

  “How are you doing?”

  “Shénhuà shì w ŏmen de zhĭnánzhēn ,” she said.

  “How’s that?” he said.

  “Myth is our compass. It’s something my mom used to say. She believed our stories about monsters and dragons could help us find the Titans and restore our connection to nature.”

  “Your mother?” he said. “Wait, you’re second-generation Monarch?”

  “Third,” she corrected. “It runs in the family.”

  Smiling, she showed Mark a photo of her family, including her – and what must be her twin sister, and her own identical twin girls, who looked to be about three. It was more than a little weird.

  “That’s incredible,” Mark said. “Don’t suppose your family has any tips on slaying dragons?”

  “Slaying dragons is a western concept,” she answered. “In the East, they are sacred. Divine creatures that brought wisdom, strength – even redemption.”

  Mark turned that over in his mind. Was that where Serizawa was coming from, ultimately? The idea that these monsters were divine? Gods? From what he remembered of mythology, divine didn’t necessarily mean good or even nice. The gods could be angry, jealous, petty, spiteful.

  But something about the way Chen explained it touched a chord in him.

  Redemption. He could use some of that.

  Quiet time was over. The rest of the team was returning to the bridge.

  “I don’t get it,” Colonel Foster said. “This Oxygen Destroyer. Why wasn’t Monster Zero affected?”

  “I mean, I’m no scientist,” Barnes said, “but maybe it’s got something to do with his goddamn head growing back.”

  “I’ve never seen anything like this,” Stanton said. “It violates everything we know about the natural order.”

  “Unless he’s not part of the natural order,” Chen said.

  All eyes turned toward her.

  “What do you mean?” Serizawa asked.

  Chen went to her station.

  “I was able to piece this together,” she said.

  She brought up a cave painting, depicting a three-headed dragon surrounded by flames and skulls.

  “Well, he looks vaguely familiar,” Coleman said.

  “It tells of the great dragon who fell from the stars – a hydra whose storms swallowed both man and gods alike.”

  Mark got what she was saying. But really?

  “You mean an alien?” he said.

  “Yes. He’s not part of our natural order. And he’s not meant to be here.”

  “A false king,” Serizawa said.

  Mark’s attention was on another glyph. This one showed Godzilla fighting the three-headed dragon. But the big lizard wasn’t alone. He had help from above in the form of some sort of winged monster. And below – humans were fighting with him, tiny though they were.

  “An invasive species,” Stanton said. “If he is an alien it could explain the storms and the effect he’s having on the other Titans. Almost as if he’s reshaping the planet to his own liking.”

  “These legends,” Serizawa asked. “What did they call him?”

  “Ghidorah,” she said. “The one who is many.”

  “What was that?” Mark asked. “Gheedra? Gridora?”

  “I think she said gonorrhea,” Coleman whispered.

  At the controls, Griffin interrupted.

  “Dr. Serizawa,” she said, “we’re approaching Castle Bravo. But there’s something you should see.”

  Outside, it was pouring with rain, but they could still easily see what she was talking about. The island and “oil rig” that hid the underwater base were surrounded by military vessels and helicopters. A lot of them.

  FIFTEEN

  From Dr. Graham’s collected notes:

  Moth: I gave you my life.

  Flame: I allowed you to kiss me.

  —Hazrat Inayat Khan, Sufi teacher

  They took the Argo down, and were met not by Monarch staff but by military and government suits.

  And Admiral Stenz.

  “Colonel,” he said to Foster. “I’d like a moment with you and your men.” The Admiral nodded at the rest of them. “I’ll see you momentarily.”

  “What’s the deal with that?” Mark asked. “I thought those guys were Monarch.”

  “Sort of yes, sort of no,” Coleman answered. “They’re sort of on loan. We’ve never had to test the chain of command.”

  Mark’s mind flashed back to Emma, talking about the government’s intentions. If the word had come down earlier to kill all of the Titans, but Serizawa said no, who would G-Team have answered to?

  * * *

  Back in the situation room, horrific scenes played out on the monitors. Cities in smoking ruin, military units pounding a half-dozen different Titans to no obvious effect. Mark was aghast, but his up-close-and-personal experiences with these monsters were making him a little numb. Vivienne’s loss had been personal to him, Andrew’s death devastating. Even though, intellectually, he knew every one of the thousands if not millions who were dying right now were just as real and important to the people who loved them, he couldn’t grieve for them all. His mind wouldn’t let him. If he felt for each of those abstract casualties what he felt when he lost Andrew, he would go insane. Anyone would.

  That didn’t mean he didn’t feel anything, though, and certainly didn’t mean he wanted it to go on.

  When he pulled back from the worldwide tragedy, looked not at the individual events but instead at the global tracking data, some interesting patterns began to emerge, tantalizingly familiar. There was something there, something he almost recognized.

  Stenz began the meeting.

  “Moscow. London. Washington D.C. All under attack. On every continent, the Titans are triggering earthquakes, wildfires, tsunamis, and disasters we don’t even have names for yet.”

  As he spoke, more images appeared. Ghidorah’s storm was now many storms, from super-cells to immense squall lines sweeping through inland areas, spawning thunderstorms and tornados by the thousands.

  Rodan was still out there, too. Motion captures from planes and ground bases showed volcanoes erupting as he flew past them, and satellite data presented a string of eruptions that coincided with his flight path, sending megatons of volcanic
ash and gases into the atmosphere. Stanton’s words came to the forefront of his mind. It really did seem like Ghidorah was trying to tear the earth’s ecosystem back down to the bones and start over.

  Or maybe Monster Zero just hated everything, and the destruction was a process, a goal in and of itself. Maybe he was a god – but there was nothing that said a god had to be sane.

  Yet – whatever his reasons – Ghidorah had tried this before and been stopped. And if you believed the stuff Chen had shown them, human beings had been part of doing that.

  “Now, as before, we’ve been trying to lure the creatures with nuclear materials,” Stenz went on, “but they are not taking the bait this time. Their behavior has become random. Erratic. And with our forces spread desperately thin – and these things roaming the globe unimpeded – we are running out of options. And time.”

  It clicked. What he’d seen in the tracking data.

  Mark leaned toward Chen.

  “Not random,” he whispered.

  The Admiral noticed. He turned his steely gaze toward Mark.

  “Something to add?” he said.

  “Yeah,” Chen said. “You’re wrong.”

  “Excuse me?” Stenz said.

  “Their behavior is not random or erratic,” Chen said.

  It came as a mild, but pleasant surprise. Chen probably didn’t know what he meant. But she trusted him enough to concur with his assessment.

  Mark pointed to the map detailing the movements of the various Titans since their release.

  “If I may, sir, as amazing as this sounds, they’re moving like a pack. They’re hunting. And like all packs from wolves to killer whales they’re responding to the Alpha. Grid… Gydar… Girdar.”

  “Ghidorah,” Chen said.

  “Yeah,” Mark said. “Him. With Godzilla gone, he’s the one calling the shots. They’re acting like an extension of him.”

  He stepped forward.

  “If we stop him, we’ll stop them,” he said.

  Stenz stared at him. Mark could almost see him crunching the data. Mark had done the easy part – set the goal. Stenz’s mind was geared toward working out the tactics to achieve that goal.

  “Is there another creature that might stand a chance against him?” Colonel Foster asked.